Mentors
by Riddl3MeThis
Summary: The people behind the people who win..and the ones who don't.
1. Blame

**NOTICE: THE CHAPTERS OF THIS STORY HAVE BEEN MOVED TO MY OTHER STORY, VICTORS PAST. YOU CAN FIND THEM THERE.**


	2. Control

The world is black and white to Cashmere.

Literally.

Her colorblindness had been helpful during her own Games (a world without color had given her an attention to detail that helped her become the only tribute who could pick up a trail after it'd gone cold by noticing the displacement of only a few blades of grass) but rendered her utterly useless as a mentor. She could no longer sense depths, study textures, nor notice minute changes. Actually, she could barely make out which gray lump was her tribute on the grainy screens.

"Ah, given up, have we?" Johanna Mason's annoyingly cheery voice interrupted her silent brooding.

"No," Cashmere snapped, "Just taking a breather."

"Couldn't have found somewhere closer to the Control Room?"

"Gleam said I could take however long I wanted. What're you doing here, anyway?"

Instead of becoming guarded, as Cashmere had expected, Johanna let out a chuckle and lowered herself to the Training Room floor. "No one's usually in here. Too many memories, or some sappy bullshit like that."

"You don't have any memories when you come back here?"

"None that I don't want to remember."

Cashmere shoots her a look, "You can't control your memories."

Johanna chuckles again, "Of course you can. Bit of time and diligence is all you need." And then, as an afterthought, "Suppose it's one of the few things I can control in my life. What I remember. How pathetic is that?"

"Extremely pathetic, Johanna. You can't control your memories."

"Oh, but can't I?" the younger girl smirks up at her.

"No," Cashmere says softly and gets to her feet, "None of us can control anything. It's all random luck, chance..."

"_'May the odds be ever in your favor,'_" Johanna summarizes. But Cashmere is too far away now to hear her. 


	3. Assassinate

"Thank you...thank you."

They always thank him when they finish. As if they can justify what they've done by pretending it was a service, not forced.

Finnick makes no reply.

This customer doesn't seem to like the silence, though, and starts to talk.

He does his best to ignore her and slowly moves himself to the edge of the bed. Close physical proximity is something that disgusts him now.

He retreats into his own world and looks at the stars in the sky, pretending he's back in District 4 with Annie.

"I mean, I could understand if they said he was taking a vacation there, but they're saying he moved there, as in permanently. And why on earth would anybody want to move to District 7?" the woman's screechy voice draws him out of his reveree eventually.

"Huh?" he asks, and then quickly slips into his mask and roles onto his side to look at her more clearly, "Sorry, sweet, but who were you talking about?"

The woman moves closer to his now-exposed chest and abdomen, and it takes all he has not to shiver or roll away. "Waltham Burrows, darling," she drawls, "The President's ex-assistant?"

The name sounds oddly familiar to Finnick. "Wasn't...wasn't he the head Gamemaker for the Games after my year?"

"Yes, dear," she says and moves a little closer, "He was put on the president's staff a year later. He was recently promoted to assistant, but now they're saying he's been relocated to District 7."

"Hmm," he considers this for a moment, "He must've really pissed off someone."

The woman cackles as if this is the funniest thing she's ever heard. "Well, yes, that's a possibility...or," her voice turns serious now, "Well, there's been talk."

"Talk?"

Her face immediately turns guarded. "Yes, but it's just that. Just talk."

But she's playing a game she's bound to loose. Finnick is a master at influencing people. He puts his hatred on hold long enough to wrap his arm around the customer and give her a smile, "Well who's doing this talking?"

He sees the reluctance on her face, and sees it loose out to her desire. "My friend's husband also works on the President's staff," her voice has become hushed, "and...well, he thinks that Waltham might've...might've been assassinated."

Finnick isn't shocked. He's dealt with Snow enough to know that this type of thing probably isn't uncommon. "Who does he think did it?"

But the customer is too nervous now to continue. "I don't know. I'm not sure." She attempts to snuggle into his chest, but he draws back now.

"I, uh, I have to get going."

"Oh...alright," she's disappointed but he could care less. He has other people to see, now. People who know what to do with information like this.

How to use it to take down the people making him miserable. 


	4. Defeat

When Joelle became a mentor it was difficult. There was no rule book, no manual to follow, but she's considering writing one for all those who will follow in her doomed footsteps. It would go something like this:

_RULE 1:_ If you're from Districts 5, 7, 9, 10, 11, or 12, don't become attached to the pupils you're mentoring. They're probably going to die within a week of driving at the Capitol.

_RULE 2:_ Do not plan on staying for long periods of time in the Control Room. You will be called out at intervals to "service" some of the higher-paying citizens. Though if you look like Finnick or Cashmere, don't plan on staying longer than five minutes.

_RULE 3:_ Don't drink anything Handed to you by fellow mentors who's tributes have already died. It will have alcohol in it and your tributes will also die in quick succession.

_RULE 4:_ Don't get hopeful when they make it to the final 8. The minute you start bragging is the minute the Gamemakers create a rockslide or start a snow storm.

_RULE 5:_ Never, ever waste sponsors on buying your tribute a weapon. Unless your tribute is an utterly helpless idiot, they will know how to sharpen sticks with rocks or how to throw large objects. Buy them food. It is the Hunger Games, after all.

The most important rule, however, that she's learned from her four years of mentoring alongside Chaff is to keep your head down. Don't get involved in anything that seems rebellious. Stay away from private conversations with other mentors, because they'll just try to rope you into their "cause". Stay quiet and unoppinionated, and Do As You're Told.

The Capitol has numerous ways of inflicting punishment on those who don't follow this rule. Some more painful than others.

Above all, though, Joelle has realized that there's one guideline you need to understand before you will be able to follow these rules:

The Capitol rules over everything and everyone. And there is absolutely nothing that can be done to change that. 


End file.
